Hetalia Games
by Alfred's Elevator
Summary: It started with an arguement, and concluded with the end of all nations. Alfred regrets what he did, but he is dead before he can redeem himself. When he, and the other nations, get a second chance they are reincarnated in Panem. Who will survive the first quarter quell of the Hunger Games? Pairings: Slight USUK. T for violence (surprise, surprise), swearing and death.
1. The Prelude thingy

Hetalia Games  
Alfred F. Jones stared around him at the remains of his once great country. The ash had finally settled after ten years of bombing, for now there was no one else to do the bombing. The gray sky had cried blood for too long, and now Alfred was alone and weak, his breath shattered. He knew it was his fault, he knew he had started the nuclear warfare and thrown the world into chaos. He also knew he was done for, and didn't try to fight it. The last bomb had been dropped six weeks ago, and the scattered survivors of his nation were dying, his country had fallen. He remembered the great war, larger than any in history, and perhaps the largest there will ever be.  
It all started when he had bombed Russia for reasons escalating from a skirmish to all out war. After that Ivan had retaliated with atomic bombs, the first cities to go were New York and Los Angeles, two of his most populated. After that Britain had come to him, urging him to stop, but by then it was too late. One after another other countries had began taking sides and joining the fighting, brother bombing brother and small neutral countries falling from the crossfire.  
Then Canada joined him. He helped as much as he could but the enemies had quickly targeted him and silenced him. After that something had cracked in the American, he lost all sense. His target was the whole world, and he sent one bomb after another until all who were left were himself, Britain, Russia, Germany and France. Alfred knew he should have quit then and called for a cease fire, but his anger got the better of him. The other countries all saw that and had banded together against him. He was weak, but so were the others, he managed to finish off Russia and Germany, and France died of starvation after that. The final battle was fought on his land. The last of the British army traveled to meet his and the nations had stared each other down, both willing to end it. He himself had pulled the trigger first, but as the older man fell Alfred's wall of madness fell and the full realization of what he had done hit him. He had rushed towards the fallen country, scooping him up into his arms, begging forgiveness in tears. He loved the man that was bleeding before him, but had never told him for fear of a response filled with hatred. As the life had drained of the emerald eyes Arthur had whispered for the American to lean closer, and breathed his last words. "It's no surprise you're the last one, you always were strong...I'm sorry that fate has chosen for us to pass this early, and that this has to be said on my deathbed...I, I love you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you before, so maybe we could have had a few years of happiness together. I always thought about you, always wanted to hold you close like when you were young. But not as a brother, I wanted to be more than that, but now I'll never get the chance..."  
Alfred had pulled the man into his lap and held him, tears falling heavy as rain as he stammered "I-I love you too Iggy. I always wanted to tell you. B-but I was a-afraid you hated me, so never said anything. I wanted you to notice me. The only reason I started that damn revolution was to be seen as your equal, but it never worked out as I expected..." By now the Brit's eyes had closed and America was left alone and dying in the world. Mourning for the life that could have been and the friends he had lost.  
After that he had tried to survive, but grew weaker each day. Mourning and regret hindered him uninterested in life, and he had quickly deteriorated to his current state. He was slumped against a broken gravestone that once belonged to a soldier during the revolution, The headstone was worn away, leaving nothing to the grave's owner but a rock and space in the ground. He slid down the wall and sat there, finally out of energy. This was the place he had chosen to rest: The Revolutionary War Cemetery in Salem, New York.. It had been here since 1767, quite a long time. _The grave remains, but the country this dude died for will be gone soon... _Alfred thought to himself. HE saw the tiny ring of light announcing the sunrise, also taking note of a fallen flag that used to decorate a grave. It was burnt at the edges and stained with ash.  
"Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light..." The country began softly. As his hoarse voice choked out the words to his beloved country's national anthem it became slightly louder. Through the song he cried, and at the end of the third verse he raised his hand in a salute to America, and to this world. By the time the sun struck him, his blue eyes had become dull, and his body lifeless. The great hero was dead.

As the sun arched in the sky the great Roman Empire approached the fallen nation. His cape flowed softly behind him in the slight wind of his strides as he stared grimly at America. _It's not your time yet. But you don't know that, do you?_ He thought. Reaching out a careful hand he gently touched the temple of the younger man. Slowly, as if by magic, the US started to change into red, white, and blue dust, keeping his shape and starting from the spot Roman Empire had touched him. The dust held in the air until a sudden gust of wind swept it across the land, from sea to shining sea.

Authors note: Good goodness, those were the most horribly written death scenes ever. Sooooo cheesy and rushed. Oh well, the deaths aren't important, at least not _these_ ones. Mwahahahaha! Just Kidding. Sorry about how awful this is, i don't even really explain what happened. Just note that I'm going to be expanding the country and history of Panem because so much was left open and I want to help explore it. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this, the next part is just more setting up the story, then the games will begin. If you didn't guess there will be slight USUK, but no other pairings, probably. We'll see how I feel in the arena. But considering all the people are in different Districts it would be kinda awkward if the second they see each other in the arena they start making out at the cornucopia instead of killing. Anyway...um...*Thinks of distraction* HAHAHAHAHAHA, RUN AWAY!

P.S. I need to think of a name for Holy Rome and a last name for Germany. What do you guys like? For HRE I was thinking Philip, Joseph, Henry, Louis, Maximilian, William(though I may get focus problems with this name and be tempted to nickname him the reaper or something of the sort. I...Yeah, I'm a black Butler fan. What of it?), or Conrad after names of emperors. What do you like, do you have suggestions or a favorite? Please PM or review me your ideas. Rupert and Rudolf were also considered. I don't like them as much. His name will be decided by popular vote so if you guys like those I'll make ir happen. And if no one cares enough to tell me what they think I'm leaning towards Louis or Philip. Or I could just use Hre, it's fun to say it like Hreeeeeeeeeeeee! Hrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Huh-reeeee Huh-huh-reeeeeeeeee. Right then. Bad Animorphs moment. Kay, this ridiculously long AN is over. Undertakerkuroshit out!


	2. Chapter 1

Author's note: Hey dudes, I'm super psyched for season five! Hetalia: The Beautiful World. Anyway my brother and I just fangirled around the neighborhood with me carrying the star-spangled-banner and yelling the Maru kaite Chikyuu song. All Denmark (I have the right to call my brother that because his name is Mathias and he sorta looks like Denmark) really did was whoop... Is it bad my ten-year-old brother saw part of the scene with Prussia and Hungary in the woods when her clothes were ripped? I paused when I realized what was happening and sent him out though... I'm apparently a bad sister. Anyway my block thinks I'm insane now, but I had pasta for dinner so it's ok. Paaassstttttaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Taytay, back to business, I have no strict uploading schedule so I just write when inspiration hits. I had a crappy day at school, a headache on top of exhaustion really hits hard. Plus I really want to play Kingdom Hearts but my PS2 Is broken :'( I had a bad day but I feel better now so I am writing. Enjoy Hetalia Games chapter...? This one. Ja, das ist.

I blink in the sunlight streaming in from the glassless window. Rolling into a sitting position I rub the sleep from my eyes. My father is still asleep next to me in the bedroom we share and I run a hand through my hair. Yawning, I decide to get ready for the day, a big one considering it is days before the reaping. The kitchen I work at in the town building is in charge of feeding guests of the mayor's; that includes the capitol officials that are coming to do the reaping in four days time. This time the food needs to be extra special for the first quarter quell, the announcement had been made two weeks ago when President Bushwacker had said, on a required viewing on the tv, that to celebrate 25 years of the hunger games, a special twist would be added to the reaping that year. The president had then pulled an envelope from a small box about the size one would keep recipies in. Opening the envelope he had smiled and read: _In this, the twenty-fifth year after the rebellion, a special rule had been added to the reaping. To remind the rebels that they should always be aware that if we decide to mold them, they will mold and derive from protocol. Instead of the girl and boy tribute from every district, any child from ages 12-18 will be eligible to participate, even if a child of the same sex has already been chosen for that district. This will be a very special hunger games! Prepare yourselves Panem, the game is afoot. I expect the districts to prepare the ceremonies with extra care this year to celebrate this momentous occasion! Goodnight. _

So me and my buds are supposed to make a feast. Which sucks because I don't cook, like, extremely well, I'm only in the kitchen because my dad works there and It's better then harvesting the wheat crop every year. That's what all the other kids my age are doing, and this job pays better anyways.

I get up and stretch, effectively popping my back, and pull on my white work uniform. Walking to the mirror, I remove my glasses as I brush my hair, unsuccessfully attempting to my one cowlick to blend into the rest of my hair. It always sticks up, I don't know why.

I walk outside and wait for my glasses to become unfogged. Looking up the uniform row of grey, single-level houses that make up the housing area of district 9, I sigh at the empty street and take note of the billowing cloud my breath created.. No one else will get up for a few hours, except maybe a few of my friends. I make a decision to check and begin the trek across my district.

The way 9 is set up is completely straight lines, usually roads, dividing the whole thing. It's a giant square divided into three main parts. The fields, the town, and the houses. The northern part is the field and has all the different grain types we grow there. It is the biggest division of 9 and is shaped like an "L," a rectangle with a smaller leg poking out.

Within the inner corner of the "L" is the town. It has the town building, the peacekeeper building, the market, train station, main plaza, and tons of storage sheds where the grains are kept. The market is a bunch of shops that carry everything you need and more at a cheaper price than the stores run by the capital. Normally, such a thing would not be allowed, but the people who keep it running worked something out with the district years ago. So now if the people behave and keep the harvest totals high, then the market would be allowed to stay.

The south part of the district is dedicated to housing. Every house has a number to tell them apart. Me and my dad are number 1783. Thousands of grey houses in rows for the normal people like us, a small portion with two story houses for those who can afford them are the majority of space. The victor's village, otherwise known as coo-coo corner for no reason whatsoever, this is what make up the housing portion of 9, that, and a few storage sheds in the north-east corner.

As I leave my house, avoiding the snow when I can, and start walking towards the sheds where hopefully some of my friends are.

As I enter the small clearing behind the sheds near the district wall I look around cautiously, the peacekeepers could be anywhere. I let out a small sound, much like a meowing cat, and look around. All is silent for a few moments.

I'm about ready to give up when another meow answers my call and I spin around, startled. He always can sneak up on me, he's so quiet.

Berwald had his ever-passive expression on as he follows me into the clearing. Tall, with short messy blonde hair, glasses and piercing blue eyes, Berwald can seriously creep me out sometimes with his stoic demeanor. He never says more than necessary and often makes random statements that he expects you to take as facts without argument. According to him I'm short, loud, and his little brother. He leaves no room for discussion, and has never explained why.

The way he speaks is unusual in the districts, his family are all aliens. The name given by the capitol to people who have come to Panem from what used to be another country. Aliens' families usually stuck together for many, many years and eventually found their way to our not-so-fair country of Panem. Since the aliens generally stick together with people from the same culture, their accents are preserved.

"Emil is here too." he says, revealing the silver-blond behind him. I nod at the teen, another alien, whose light blue eyes blend with the wintery scene.

"Hey Emil, what's up?" I ask. He shrugs in a nonchalant way and pulls something from his pocket. As I lean in I see it's a small bird, a kind I've never seen before. I think it's a baby. It's black with a really round tri-colored beak and strange white markings on it's head and belly. It's wings look too small for it to fly. "What is it?" I ask. He blinks at me and responds.

"A bird. I found it, it was buried in snow and squawking. I think it's a chick." he agrees with my "it's young" theory.

Berwald holds out his hands and Emil carefully puts the bird into them. I watch as the teen examens the bird and places it back in it's owners hands. Seemingly startled, it puffs out it's feathers and bites Emil's hand, who almost drops the thing. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow..." He mutters, quickly bending down and letting the bird off his hand while I laugh aloud. He gives me an indignant look.

"What's so funny Alfred? He almost bit my thumb off!"

"Your face is funny!" I yell and take off down the rows of sheds as Emil stuffs the bird in his pocket and follows suit. I can clearly imagine Berwald rolling his eyes and half-heartedly running after us. We run and run until we reach the edge of the plaza in the main part of town, where the mood is starting to get heavy as the reaping draws closer. All being within the ages of 12-18, me and both of my friends are eligible to be reaped into the games. A fight to the death between two tributes from each of the twelve remaining districts, I don't know what I would do if two of us went in. AND THIS YEAR THAT'S A CONCERN. See, normally a boy and girl go in, but with the new rule this year... And I Don't likey and it sukz. Anyways we make it into town and look around. Not many stores are open yet and the old buildings have a creepy look in the sunrise. "Hey guys, do you wanna hit Randy's? We can pick up some ice cream. On me." I ask. Berwald looks as passive as ever and Emil looks awkward at accepting stuff for free. "Hey guys, it's cool. Come on!" I yell, taking off again. We may need to be quiet sneaking around our meeting point in the sheds, which we could get in major trouble for, but the town is ours as we race through the street laughing at stupid things and ignoring the rolled eyes of those now beginning to wake up for the day. As we come to a stop in front of the candy store I notice an odd sound coming from Emil's pocket. "Hey, we better ask if we can bring that in, I don't want him getting mad at us."

Emil stared at me "Of course. I feel the same. You go in first, I'll wait here."

"If it's a no-go I'll buy stuff and bring it out. What do ya want?" I ask

"I'll just take a single licorice." Emil smiles.

"See you in a minute." I say, pushing the door open with my back and holding it open for Berwald. After he's in I spin around and take in my surroundings. As always it's clean. No, more bordering on spotless. The worn wooden floors don't have a spec of dust on them and the faded yellow wallpaper is dull, but welcoming. The small shop has a few scattered tables near the door and the counter cuts off a portion of the room that held shelves of candy, an ice cream machine, and a door to the back room. I grin at the elderly man behind said counter and call out a greeting. He smiles and calls out to me in a loud voice.

"Al! Nice to see you, I see Berwald's here too this time. No Emil today?"

"Yeah, he's outside. He has a weird bird-thing he found, would it be alright if he brought it in? If not we'll eat outside. But you know, it's cold." Being a customer of his for ten years now, I know he will toy with me before telling me yes or no. I brace myself with some witty remarks.

"A bird-thing? What's that? It it a kind of bird or a kind of thing? Or is a kind of both?"

"It's..." I remembered the way it puffed itself up before latching on to Emil's thumb. "A puff... a puffin." Berwald allows one of his eyebrows to move up, like, a millimeter as he stares at me. I shrug him off and continue. "Yeah, they like... cold stuff, especially snow. And...and...they...um."

"Show their affection via biting." I'm shocked at Berwald's rescue, he rarely says more than is necessary.

I see Randy is considering. "Mmmm, well I guess I can allow it, provided it doesn't bite me." He gives me a smile. I smile and realize he had meant to all along.

After retrieving Emil we all sit down in a booth and talk about stuff, well, me and Emil are talking, Berwald only gives the occasional one-syllable reply or opinion. "Mr. Puffin" as Emil named him after hearing about the exchange with Randy, was on the seat with his owner while Berwald and I shared a bench. This is the best it gets right before the reaping, chatting in a candy shop. Unfortunately the conversation turns to the hunger games before long.

"So...the new rule this year. Who do you think will go in? I mean, well, who has the best chance?" Emil asks reluctantly.

"Jacob Thompson is strong, I bet he could make it to the final eight at least. Or Cristen Himson." I say, referring to to boys who harvest in the fields, much like Berwald.

"Yeah." Berwald agrees.

"Maybe so. Hey Al? Aren't you supposed to be helping with the big feast?" Emil raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah..." I check the time using the clock on the wall. "Crap, I gotta get goin guys, I'm on pasta prep, see ya"

"Bye Alfred, don't get it on the ceiling showing off again." Emil cautions, referring to a mishap that happened a few months ago. Berwald nods and I drop some money on the table, including a tip, and leave.

Author's Note: Wow, I'm failing like it's my job. My inspiration is bombing. Sorry about the Waaaay to much time between updates ;A; I kinda gave up proofreading near the end so I could give you something! I will never quit though, don't worry.

My friend and I wrote this. It's not part of the story, but you can decipher it if you want. I'll try and update quickly!

IT STAYZ/ no /JSwRAOng wRONG nO noN /no /JA. Kk, back 2 buisness /2 o ninja /sukz /lik ameerica /who iznt stupd/ like poland /who lks pniez /like a prat /who lks pnyz like your mom america your face. BURN OHHHHH /no now i can swear haha hahaha /stupid jerk i threw ur sconz at some wrd kid w/a bear. /w/a? what the bloody hell does that mean /with. duh. :P /no are you that daft ? /Poo-head. /wanker /rasberry platic tickle bear! /umm i have no idea how to respond to that /I lik piklz /pickled cucumber with an s twit /you need 2 wtch ponies and get ur angwerz /I hate text talk it confuses me so . /ur just 2 stupid 2 read it. /Speak the kings english. /IISPEAK AMERICAN! WOOOH! /colour car park /ur face is a parking lot /lorry tube fairy cake /ur mom's a fary cake /git your related to someone with the name randy , that means horny /if ur s2pid /or if you r not a bloody americain

/AMERICA WOOOOOOOOOH! /Grammar /ER /no what the hell that doesn't make any sense /ya it doez. u need to go top ER to get sugry on ur s2pid brain /something about sugar? /maybe they haz suckerz those have suger /Why? do you enjoy to digrace the english language and"american"/it not disgracing it itz awsomafying it /your spellling is horrible and it sucks! /with a z which ,akes it awesomez /In England we use less Z's and we pronounce it zed /moun'inz! wader! Meder! hahahahaha /wader? /weirdos say waterz /we dont spell that any different than americans /Wader! /water metre centre /you got the rz and ez mixed ^ / kilometres are the proper way to mesure distance /Milez. /no /yez


	3. Chapter 3

By the time I run out the door it's snowing thickly and the chill wind goes right through my (thankfully long-sleeved) uniform, causing me to shiver. The Justice Building is just a few blocks away, but I am not looking forward to traversing the streets like this.

I'm aware of my friends watching me so I leave the doorstep, stepping into the sheet of white and hugging myself to keep warm. I have to look brave, I am a hero after all! Ya see, once, when I was 12, I saw a person in a river, drowning so I threw in a rope that I found in and the dude grabbed on and I pulled him out(I'm really super strong for my age) and saved him! Hero, see?

Woa, that poor girl doesn't have a coat, she must be so cold! ...What was I saying? Nevermind.

I pass few people and am very pleased to open the door to the Justice Building, which works as a hotel for the Captillians (Reptilian and Capital combined, my own nickname for them. Some of the modifications they do to themselves are very creepy and reptile-like, so I have reason. Plus the fact that I wouldn't trust them more than I would a snake just makes it more believable), the mayor's own home, a peacekeeper center and a gathering place for the people here.

I enter the Justice Building and slip quickly into the kitchen. A quick glance at the clock tells me I'm half-an-hour late. Crap. When I step in front of my partner, Maria, she shakes her head mockingly, light reflecting her long red curls and glasses. "Alfred, Alfred." She tsks "Late? Again? This won't suffice, Mr. Jefferson won't enjoy it." She says grimly.

I gasp and clutch my chest over my heart, faking terror, which is something I do often with Maria. "Oh no! What will happen to me? I'll be whipped and hung for the tracker jackers!" I cry dramatically, hiding my laugh completely, like a boss.

"If I weren't the supervisor here, you might just be. Don't take my kindness for granted Alfred, not everyone is lucky enough to work here." I jump at the voice then blink at Mr. Jefferson, who had approached behind Maria.

He has his black hair pulled into a small ponytail as usual and his cool dark eyes look frustrated. Probably my doing. Oops. He may be very kind, but he is serious about the job he does, just like I'm serious about being heroic.

"I know, sir. I was just joking around." I say truthfully, grinning sheepishly. I hope he knows I'm legit. He can't stand sarcasm at all. He takes everything seriously, or pretends to. You can't tell if he knows you're joking or not. Or if he knows you're serious when you are.

He sighs "And I suppose being thirty-seven minutes late was a joke as well?"

See? Waaaay too serious. "What? "You counted?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. No way he counted... Right?

"You entered thirty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds late. Yes, I did count. Normally I wouldn't waste the time, but I wanted to make a point. We only have a couple days to prepare for the capitol escorts to come here-"

"Don't you mean run their little parade through here to abduct and kill our children while leaving the rest of our district to starvation?" Maria asks smugly. I cover my mouth to hide my laughter and cover by pretending to cry.

Mr. Jefferson sighs again, otherwise ignoring the comment and continues to scold me. "Alfred, what you do reflects yourself, your coworkers, me, and most importantly, your district."

I do feel a bit guilty, but I don't let it show. Instead I grin, giving a thumbs-up. "Sure thing, I understand. I'll do my best to show how much we adore our fearless and mighty leaders by giving them the best poison we have!" I say cheerily, spreading a look of pure exasperation to Mr. Jefferson's face.

"Alfred," my he says slowly. "Just cook food. edible food, mind you, and leave the poison alone. You might swallow some and then I would have to find a replacement for you and clean up the mess. I would prefer you just do as you're told." That completely surprises me, and I gape at him. Like I said, he, normally, can't stand sarcasm. What the hell?

I stare at him as he walks away, then Maria and I give each other an amused and slightly worried look. "The apocalypse is coming." She whispers as we knead the dough. I laugh

We always tease our boss about his devotion to the capitol, but that's the first time he hasn't punished us for saying something like that. He always tried to show District 9 in a good light to the Captilians and I'm pretty sure he's serious about being loyal to them. The first time I said I would poison the annoying escort that comes every year I was doing dishes all day.

"So, Alfred, what did you put in his coffee?" Maria asks accusingly, still watching the spot where he disappeared through the door as her petite fingers started rolling the ball efficiently.

I laugh, grabbing some flour to coat my hands... 'What did I do?' I think about it for a second, then shrug. "I think he just likes you." I tease, buying time to think of something more believable.

"Jealous?"

"Nah," I smile, appreciating the joke, "I'll have fun mocking you when you have a lousy husband and I have to save you from committing suicide."

"You really do need a girlfriend." She scolds, nudging me with her elbow.

"Why?" Getting a girlfriend has never been something I cared about, I always prefered to hang out with Emil and Berwald. I never really had an interest in the whole 'love' thing, I have other things to worry about. If it does exist I'll recognize it and deal with it from there.

"You need someone smart to balance you out." she remarks, making sens- Wait a minute!

"Yeah? You need someone attractive to distract from your ugly face!"

"Even President Bushwacker has a girlfriend! You couldn't get one if you tried!"

"So two hopeless cases work here, maybe we could make it look like either of us isn't so sad-looking if you weren't so hideous." We both hold glares for about 3 seconds, mine maybe 4, before we burst out laughing in unison.

Once we start working again I notice her face get really worried, and she shoots a quick glance my way.

"What?" I ask, cocking my head in exaggeration. She shakes her head and we continue working in silence.

It takes a few minutes before she whispers my name. "Alfred?" I hum to let her know I'm listening. "What do you think about the special rule this year?"

I know that she's talking about the reaping and I scowl. "It's no better than a girl and boy." I say levely, not wanting to start a tirade in the kitchen. "I hate it."

She nods. "Why do they do this? I could go in, you could. And all those kids... die." She's right. She's 18, older than me but still in the reaping.

"I hate it, and I can't do anything about it! The stupid capitol has us completely under control with their jerks putting on a big show to mock the people not dying. 24 kids will go into the arena, and one will leave!" I hiss.

She clears her throat. "Sorry for bringing it up." I can tell she is done with the topic. She won't cry, she never does, but I know we'll knock down the roof together yelling about the capital if we continue along this road.

"Yeah." I agree to stop talking about it, but my brain is eating away at one thought now. 'Who will go in?'

Author's note: Hey peoples! I'm not dead, I promise, and please don't kill me now that you know I'm not! I am such a slow writer and this is long delayed, but I have an outline, which will help a lot! The reaping scene is pretty much written, and was planned to be the next chapter, but I needed to split this one into two chapters so I could get it to you guys. _ I hope you like this chapter, please review and tell me what you think so I know what you guys like and don't like. I challenge you to say a good thing and a bad thing about the chapter or the fic so far. For example 'I really like your oc Randy, but I think Emil is out of character' See? Won't take too long. Alfred gives cyber High-Fives to everyone who follows, reviews, favorites, or even reads this far. Congratulations to MarinaTheJolteonMaster for getting the secret meaning of Alfred's house number!

Thanks so much to:

Reviews: MarinaTheJolteonMaster (x2), cherryblossoms redwillow, and Aquailita

Follows: AngelOfDarkness130, BloodyFrog, Flyingmintbunny32, MarinaTheJolteonMaster, RikuSakura1095, Silverheart97, and .and. .GOODBYE

Favorites: BloodyFrog and anymeaddict


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